Blood Lust (James March)
by Kiara Biersack
Summary: 'What you're feeling now, dear girl, is the greatest feeling you will ever experience.'
1. Act One

**Act One: Alive**

_Only I can change my life. No one can do it for me._

_\- Carol Burnett_


	2. One

Ashlynn Harding was cold, despite the balmy California weather. She hugged her pale yellow cardigan tighter around her shoulders as her blue eyes darted to her friend, Cierra Todd. A faint wind blew through the open window of the taxi, making Ashlynn shiver despite herself. Cierra looked her way, smiling. "Hey, lighten up," she said, squeezing her friend's knee. "Twenty-one, it's a big deal, Ash."

She supposed that was true in its own way. She could drink now, but that was it. She didn't feel any different. Cierra squeezed one more time before she released Ashlynn, pointing out the window at the hotel that was coming into view.

Its neon sign showed the words, Hotel Cortez. "We're staying there?" Ashlynn asked, and Cierra nodded.

"Yeah," she said. "That's okay, isn't it?"

It really wasn't, in truth. In all of her twenty-one years on Earth, Ashlynn had left home twice. Once on a vacation with Cierra's family, and once to summer camp. And she had returned from summer camp a week later. Cierra had planned the trip, a week away from their parents to celebrate Ashlynn's birthday and have fun. Ashlynn hated being away from her parents, and already she found her hand wandering toward the cell phone in the back pocket of her jeans.

Cierra caught her wrist, a dark eyebrow raising as she said, "hey, you promised. No calls home. Remember?"

"Yeah," Ashlynn said. "But they should know we got here safe- -"

"Ashlynn, we're not far enough to make them worry. From here on out, I'm taking your phone hostage. You're an adult, Ash. Live a little."

Cierra held out her hand, waiting. Ashlynn bit her lip, sighing before she handed over the cell. "Better?" she asked.

"Yes," Cierra replied.

The taxi pulled to a stop, and Cierra smiled, leaning over the console to hand the driver a stack of crumpled bills. "Keep the change," she said, and Ashlynn wondered briefly if she had even counted the money before she gave it to him.

Before she could ask Cierra such, she was being grabbed the hand, and Cierra was dragging her from the taxi. Her blue eyes looked over the towering hotel, lingering on the sign for a moment to memorize the name, just in case.

Cierra had a tight enough grip on her that she gave up on trying to lag behind, instead being pulled alongside Cierra as they entered the hotel. The lobby was spacious, lit by faint gold columns. Everything was a shade of bright red, cast crimson in the dim light. "Whoa," Ashlynn whispered, and Cierra was grinning.

"It's so cool," Cierra declared, her voice echoing slightly in the empty room.

"It looks like something out of the twenties," Ashlynn answered.

"That's why it's cool."

Before Ashlynn could protest, Cierra was dragging her toward the front desk. She finally released her, and Ashlynn leaned her elbow on the black wood countertop, tapping her fingers anxiously as Cierra rang the bell, once, twice, and a third time. A woman stepped out from a room behind the desk, a smile on her face, though her blue eyes held no kindness. "I heard it the first time," she said, and Cierra smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry."

Ashlynn looked the woman over. Her hair was brown, graying, and pulled into a bun. Large, rectangular glasses made her blue-green eyes look wide and insect-like. The name Iris was printed neatly on a gold name tag.

Iris' eyes darted between Cierra and Ashlynn, finally settling on Ashlynn as she asked, "reservation?"

"Yes," Cierra replied, her voice filled with polite kindness. "It's under Cierra Todd."

Iris nodded, pushing a guest book toward them. "Sign," she instructed.

Cierra signed first, her neat, looping handwriting similar to many of the others that filled the page. Ashlynn signed after in a messy scrawl that looked as if a toddler had done it. Iris squinted at the words as she took the book back. "Cierra and Ashlynn," she said, nodding to herself, and she turned to take a set of keys off of a wall hook. "This is your room key. Feel free to enjoy yourselves at our bar on the second floor."

Cierra took the keys, nodding in thanks. "63," she said to Ashlynn, before taking her arm and starting to lead her to the elevators.

Ashlynn looked back at Iris, managing a smile as she called, "thank you!"

Iris only nodded, saying nothing in response.

It was a short walk from the elevator to their room, and Cierra was practically jumping with excitement as they stepped inside. There were two beds with chests of drawers beside them. A phone rested on one of them, the same bright red as the lobby, even down to its cord.

There was a large vanity mirror against the back wall, and Cierra took advantage of it, fixing her dark hair. "Well," she said after a moment, turning to face Ashlynn. "I'm going explore. You up for some adventure?"

Ashlynn bit her lip, tugging at the sleeve of her cardigan. "No," she said. "You go on ahead. "I'm just going to stay here, get used to the room."

Cierra rolled her eyes, but she smiled nonetheless. "Fine," she said. "But, tonight, you're coming to the bar with me."

Ashlynn opened her mouth to speak, but Cierra shook her head. "Nope, no buts. It's happening. I'll be back soon. Enjoy yourself."

She pecked Ashlynn quickly on the cheek, grinning as she hurried from the room, leaving Ashlynn by herself.

Ashlynn sighed, settling into a chair. She slipped off the cardigan, the hairs on her arms rising at the cool air of the room. She shivered slightly, leaning back into the chair with a long breath. "You can do this, Ashlynn," she whispered to herself.

Her hands were shaking, the onset of a panic attack, she knew. She closed her hands into fists. "Breathe," and the command seemed to help. "Breathe."

She closed her eyes and repeated this a few more times.

Until a voice, she had never heard before spoke. "Yes, dear girl. Breathe."

Male, tinged with an accent. Her blue eyes flew open to see a man. He, like the lobby, looked as if he had stepped out of the 1920s. He was dressed smartly in a white button-down shirt, a black, striped vest over it, and black pants as well. A silk scarf was tucked into his shirt, hiding the skin of his neck.

He looked her over with a pair of dark eyes, the same color as his hair, which was gelled and slicked to one side. His thin mustache was carefully trimmed. "How did you get in here?" Ashlynn demanded, her voice tinged with fear, though she tried her best to hide it.

The man shrugged, smiling faintly. "I come and go as I please," he said. "Am I frightening you, dear girl?"

She didn't answer, rather she pulled her legs up onto the chair, hugging her knees close to her chest. "How did you get in here?" she asked again, voice weak with the start of tears.

"I own this hotel, darling."

"I didn't hear you come in."

He shrugged again. "Perhaps it's hard to hear when you're as anxious as you are."

She didn't answer, and he smiled one more time. "If I'm making so afraid, I'll go."

"Please," she whispered, the word barely audible.

He nodded. "All right. Adieu, then."

And in an instant, he was gone.

Ashlynn screamed.


	3. Two

"Ash? Ash? Ashlynn!"

Cierra's voice sounded muffled to Ashlynn's ears, like she was underwater and Cierra was talking to her from above the surface. When she opened her eyes, Cierra was gripping her shoulders, staring at her. "Cierra?" she asked softly.

"Jesus, Ash, you scared the shit out of me! You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm sorry," Ashlynn said, her voice sounding not quite her own.

"I- - no, you don't have to apologize. It's my fault. I left you, and I know how you can get."

Ashlynn bit her lip as Cierra let out a sigh, squeezing her arm. "You okay?" she asked, and Ashlynn managed a nod.

"You know what? Let's go to the bar. Let's help you relax, okay?" Cierra offered.

"Okay," Ashlynn said after a long moment.

Cierra took her arm, leading her out of the hotel room. Ashlynn kept her head down as they walked, staring at the crimson carpet. "There's no cell reception here," Cierra saying. "I guess that's why the phone's in our room. No Wi-Fi, either. Where are we, the dark ages?"

She laughed at her own joke, sparing Ashlynn a glance before continuing walking.

The bar was nearly empty, save a young man, whose head was down as he sipped from a glass. They approached the bar, settling into stools as Cierra looked to the bartender.

It was a woman, bald, and dressed in a long black dress with a blue scarf that hung to her heeled feet. She had on blue eyeshadow with heavy, winged kohl liner that reminded Ashlynn of Cleopatra. A cigarette dangled between her fingers. "May I see some I.D., ladies?" she asked, surprising Ashlynn with her masculine voice.

Cierra obliged quickly, nudging Ashlynn as she did so. The woman examined Cierra's I.D. first, nodding. She took Ashlynn's next, a faint smile creeping onto her face. "Happy birthday," she said.

"Thanks," Ashlynn replied, trying to stop her hands shaking as she took back the I.D. card.

"What would you like?" the woman asked, looking between Cierra and Ashlynn.

"Rum and coke," Cierra said quickly.

Ashlynn bit her lip, trying to think of what her mother ordered when they went to restaurants. "Gin and tonic," she offered, though it sounded more like a question than she had hoped.

The woman chuckled. "Coming right up," she said, turning to the small pyramid of assorted bottles behind her.

Cierra squeezed Ashlynn reassuringly, offering a smile. "You're okay," she said.

"I'm okay," Ashlynn replied.

The bartender finished Cierra's drink first, nodding stiffly as she handed it over. "Thanks," Cierra grinned, before she moved down the bar, occupying herself with the man.

Ashlynn took her drink with a weak smile. "Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome," the bartender replied. "Word to the wise, a gin and tonic isn't the greatest choice if you've never drunk before."

"You can tell?" Ashlynn asked, chuckling weakly.

"Of course I can. I can also tell you don't want to be here."

"Intuitive," Ashlynn replied simply, and the bartender laughed.

"Well, you're a sweet little thing. What's your name?"

"Ashlynn."

The bartender nodded, reaching across the bar to shake hands. "Liz Taylor," she said, and Ashlynn giggled despite herself.

"Like the actress?"

"Well, if I'm choosing my own name, I might as well choose a good one."

Ashlynn nodded. "I guess that makes sense."

She looked down the bar at Cierra, who was laughing at something the man said. "God, I hate her sometimes," she mumbled.

Liz raised an eyebrow. "Why spend time with her, then?"

"She's the only friend I have, really. She's just always making me do stupid stuff. I shouldn't have even come to this hotel, you know? I was fine celebrating my birthday with my parents."

Liz shrugged. "Friends always make us do stupid things. That's what they're for."

"Well, I hate it."

Ashlynn took a small sip of her drink, wincing at the taste. "God, I don't understand how people can drink this stuff," she said.

"No one does," Liz replied. "Do you want some water?"

"Please."

She had a glass ready in barely any time at all, and Ashlynn took a deep drink, grateful of the crisp taste. "Thank you."

"No problem. Besides, one of you needs to be sober to navigate this place, and it doesn't seem like your friend is up for the job."

She looked at Cierra again, shaking her head. "I wish she'd just leave me alone," she admitted, and Liz offered a kind smile.

"Why don't you go on back to your room? Your friend seems occupied, and you don't want to be here."

"I don't want to leave her. What if she needs help?"

Liz leaned forward on the bar, shaking her head. "If your friend needs help, I can help her."

"What if- -"

"Ashlynn," Liz said firmly. "It's all right. Just because a place is new, doesn't mean it's dangerous."

That may have been one of the biggest lies Liz had ever told, perhaps alongside pretending to be something she wasn't her entire life. The hotel was a cesspool of things that would turn the poor girl in front of her into a fearful little creature for the rest of her life. Horrors lurked around every corner, and though Liz had grown far used to them, she knew they would ruin Ashlynn.

The hotel had its own allure. A grandeur of sorts that lured in unsuspecting victims, only to have their throats torn out or their bodies mutilated horribly the moment night arrived.

But Liz smiled as she watched Ashlynn rise from her stool and leave the bar, even though the smile hurt.

The Hotel Cortez and its inhabitants had their own plans for Ashlynn Harding, and it was only a matter of time until those plans were set in motion.


	4. Three

She walked back to the room in silence, the only sound being the echo of her footsteps on the crimson carpet. She glanced at the rooms around her, which, thankfully, were quiet. She hoped everyone had settled in for the night, though it did seem implausible in her head.

She tapped her fingers against her thigh as she walked, blowing stray locks of blonde hair out of her eyes as a faint breeze blew them into her face. It was colder than she had expected, and she longed for the cardigan in their hotel room as a shiver went down her spine.

Her eyes moved to a woman, dressed in a maid's uniform. She was humming to herself as she carried a pile of sheets in her arms, her red hair only a few shades lighter than the color of the dark stains on the white linen. Ashlynn looked at her quizzically, earning a smile as the woman said, "an accident in room 68, nothing to worry about, dear."

Looking back at the floor, Ashlynn hurried her pace anxiously, her shoes sinking into the carpet. As she passed the room next to hers, room 64, she heard the sound of footsteps pacing. Loud, angry, pacing footsteps. She bit her lip, hesitating a moment before she knocked lightly at the door.

No response. She bit harder at her lip, starting to leave before the door opened.

It was the man from her room. He stared down at her, raising an eyebrow quizzically. "You," he said.

She took a step back from the doorframe. "Sorry," she murmured. "I didn't mean to- -"

"Intrude? You're not," he said, a smile starting to form on his face.

"I just- - I heard pacing, that's all, and I was wondering- -"

"I'm all right, dear girl. There's no need to worry."

His smile did not meet his dark eyes, which glinted dangerously as he looked her over one more time. He stepped aside, opening the door wider. "You can come inside if you wish."

There was something to his tone that made Ashlynn step back a few more times, shaking her head. "No," she said. "No, I'm all right."

He chuckled faintly, smiling his strange, fake smile. "Do I make you nervous, dear girl?"

She didn't answer. Rather, she stepped back one more time and turned. "I should go," she said.

He watched her walk to the next door room, casting one more glance his way before she disappeared inside.

James March chuckled to himself. The girl seemed to seep pure innocence, and he enjoyed it. More than he cared to admit, he liked to see the way her delicate features twisted with anxiety as she spoke to him. It took everything inside him not to pay her a visit in her room, to ruin her pale skin and drain her dry. A bloody death for her, that was entirely certain.

But he couldn't do it. He'd seen her friend, and he knew that there would too many unanswered questions if he simply killed her. A friend meant that the police would be called, and who would believe in a killer that couldn't even leave the hotels' premises? He stared at the door to her room for a second longer before he closed the door to his own, shaking his head faintly.

Elizabeth would enjoy the girl, he realized that as he poured himself a glass of scotch. Elizabeth's children, with their white skin and their pale hair. Yes, this girl would be something Elizabeth would find perfect. Childlike in mind, innocent, and entirely naive. She would be a fine plaything for either he or Elizabeth. The real question would be who would get to her first.

He could find an empty room, slit her throat and hang her by her ankles until all the color left her skin, and dear Miss Evers could happily clean up the mess. But, he thought, there would almost be no difference. The only color her skin held was the pink in her cheeks.

He wanted her to look dead. He wanted to ruin her pretty features, render her near unrecognizable.

But he couldn't.

He had not seen very much of her friend, besides her dark hair and her tan skin. She was like all the others he killed, exuberant, full of life. It would be hardly any fun to kill her. But a naive little creature like the girl he'd met…

He took a drink from his glass, nodding to himself. He would need a plan, that was entirely obvious, if he wanted to lay a finger on the girl next door.

The girl who was currently sat on the floor of her hotel room, curled into a tight ball, her knees to her chest, head between her knees as she practiced the breathing techniques her mother had taught her the first time she'd had a panic attack. In, hold, out. In, hold, out.

There was something about the hotel that made her want to run, far, far, away and never return. But that would mean leaving Cierra, and that would make her guilty beyond belief. She laced her fingers together, taking a deep breath. She wouldn't be able to take another one of her pills until morning, but she longed for them at the moment, wishing for her mind to cloud over and all of her fear to disappear, if only temporarily. Cierra hated the pills, she said they made Ashlynn not herself. Like she was a stranger in her body.

She sat like that for what felt like hours, until she heard the sound of the door opening. She didn't have to look up to know that it was Cierra.

She didn't bother to fight as Cierra carefully pulled her to her feet. She didn't even move as Cierra tucked her into one of the beds, whispering to her, "I'm sorry."

It was only their first night at the hotel, but, already, Ashlynn was dreading their trip.


	5. Four

"Ashlynn, wake up. Come on, sleepy head."

She opened her eyes to see Cierra, who smiled faintly. "Hey," she said. "I've got you some water, and one of your pills."

Ashlynn smiled gratefully, taking the glass of Cierra's outstretched hand. She took a drink, swallowing the pill quickly. "You need food," Cierra said. "Don't you?"

"Yeah," Ashlynn replied.

She knew too well what happened if she took the pills on an empty stomach. Dizziness and the urge to vomit everywhere. "There's a diner a few blocks over. You up for a walk?" Cierra asked.

"Yeah, sure."

Cierra stepped aside to let Ashlynn climb from the bed, shoving the blankets to the side. Her blonde hair was frizzy around her head, and she self-consciously patted it down with her hand. Cierra offered a smile, taking Ashlynn by the arm as they left the room.

From the end of the hallways, James watched the pair leave, Cierra chattering excitedly, Ashlynn nodding along.

Ashlynn felt as if someone was watching them. She turned around, but there was nothing there. Shaking her head, she turned back to Cierra, speeding her pace slightly.

The walk to the diner was brief, but already Ashlynn was feeling the effects of her pill. She was dizzy as she slid into a booth, Cierra sitting across from her. "You feeling okay?" Cierra asked, leaning on her elbows.

"Yeah," Ashlynn replied.

"You had an attack last night. Do you remember?"

"A little."

"What do you think caused it?"

Ashlynn bit her lip, shaking her head. "I don't know," she said, though that was a lie.

It was the hotel itself, but Cierra would never understand if she tried to tell her that. Tried to explain that darkness oozed from its very walls, closing around her in an unbreakable grip. Cierra nodded faintly, perking up at the sound of the waitress' high heeled shoes clicking on the tile floor. "What can I get you?" the waitress asked in a voice that was far too cheerful for eight in the morning.

"Coffee," Cierra said.

"Lemonade," Ashlynn said, lowering her head.

"Coming right up. Here are some menus."

Cierra took the menus with a smile, watching the waitress return to the counter. "So, Ash," she said, finally tearing her gaze away from the woman. "What do you feel like?"

"Shit," Ashlynn replied, and Cierra laughed despite herself.

"That's not what I mean, silly. What do you want to eat? I'm paying."

She slid a menu over to Ashlynn, who flipped through it lazily. "Omelet," she said. "No onions, extra green peppers."

"You want me to order, or are you feeling up to it?"

Ashlynn started to speak, but Cierra looked her over, smiling sadly. "I'll order, it's fine."

"Thanks," Ashlynn replied.

She tapped her fingers against the vinyl seat with one hand, the over picking at a bit of plastic that was peeling up from the seat. "Hey," Cierra said. "Hands on table," she instructed, and Ashlynn did as told.

"Good. You know what you're supposed to do."

Ashlynn bit her lip, balling her hands into fists, then stretching them fully. She repeated this a few times, trying to fight the urge to tap her feet against the tile. Her mother had told her not to tap, since it could distract other people. "Find something else to do with your hands," she had said, and Ashlynn always tried to listen, no matter how difficult it was.

The tapping annoyed Cierra. Ashlynn knew that, no matter how hard Cierra tried to hide it. She would see the way Cierra's eyebrows pulled together and the faint lines that appeared on her forehead.

The waitress returned after a moment, drinks in hand. She smiled as she handed them each their drinks, eyes lingering on Cierra. "Do you two know what you'd like to eat?" she asked.

Cierra launched into action the way she always did if she and Ashlynn were at a restaurant. The waitress nodded along, jotting the order down in a notepad. "Is that all?"

"Yes, ma'am," Cierra replied. "Unless you want to give me your number."

The waitress chuckled, shaking her head faintly as she walked away from the table. "Why do you have to do that?" Ashlynn asked, and Cierra looked at her quizzically.

"What?" she asked.

"Flirt with everyone."

"I don't flirt with everyone."

"It feels that way."

Cierra rolled her eyes a bit. "You just think that because you don't flirt with anybody. So, by comparison, you think I flirt with everyone."

"What about that guy at the bar?"

"He's boring."

"It didn't seem like that when you were talking to him."

"Maybe if you weren't so busy making friends with the bartender, you'd realize I was just being polite."

Ashlynn shook her head, looking to her lemonade and taking a long drink. There was too much sugar, but she ignored it as she drank.

Cierra rolled her eyes again. "God, you're childish sometimes," she muttered, but Ashlynn didn't answer.

She continued, knowing that Ashlynn wouldn't argue back. "I mean, you can't even order for yourself at a restaurant. Do you know how it makes me look when I have to order for you every time? Do you know how it makes you look?"

"Stop," Ashlynn said softly, the word barely audible.

"Seriously, Ashlynn. Do you know how annoying it gets having to act like your mother? And you're not even grateful. I do so much for you, Ashlynn."

"I didn't ask you to," Ashlynn answered, surprised at the anger in her tone.

"Well, maybe I do it because I'm a good friend."

"You aren't!"

Cierra jumped, and the other patrons turned in their seats to see what was happening. Ashlynn's eyes clouded with tears as she stood from her seat. "Ash," Cierra said quickly, reaching for her arm as she passed.

Ashlynn pulled away sharply. "Ashlynn, come on."

She ignored Cierra the best she could, balling her hands into tight fists until she could feel her fingernails pressing into the skin of her palms.

"Ashlynn! God damn it, Ash!"

But she didn't even look back.


	6. Five

She entered the hotel lobby, hands shaking as she made way toward the elevator. She felt Iris' eyes on her, but she didn't look back. Inside the elevator, she leaned against the wall, breathing slowly as she attempted to fight the knot growing in her throat. She didn't want to cry, but she felt tears brimming in her eyes. She closed her eyes tightly as a weak sob escaped her.

"Fuck," she muttered, the word strangled by the start of tears.

"Now, that's not proper language for a lady."

Her eyes flew open to take in the man she had seen twice prior. She tried to step away, only to realize she was already against the wall. "I didn't think there was anyone in here," she said weakly.

He chuckled, holding a hand out to her. "I don't believe we've properly introduced ourselves. I'm James. James March."

She hesitated a moment before she took his hand, shaking it. "Ashlynn," she said. "Harding."

His hands were cold and the grip he had on her was firm. He waited a moment too long to let go, nodding. "Ashlynn," he said, drawing out each syllable with a smile. "An interesting name."

"Thanks," she said.

"What's wrong, dear girl?"

"Nothing."

A chuckle escaped him. The elevator dinged, stopping. The doors opened, and Ashlynn stepped out, James following. "Now, dear girl, I know you're lying," he said.

"You don't know me," she replied.

"You're right," he admitted, chuckling once more. "But I can see that something's upsetting you."

"What do you care?"

He shrugged, following her as she walked down the hallway. "Perhaps I'm just curious."

She whirled to face him, tears falling down her cheeks. "Leave me alone," she said, but he was not deterred.

He stepped toward her, taking her shoulder. Her whole body tensed as he stared into her eyes. "It's all right, dear girl."

She blinked a few times before her body relaxed in his grip. "My friend," she said softly.

"What of her?"

"We got into a fight."

James nodded, a smile creeping at the corners of his mouth. "Well," he said, and he let go of her, half expecting her to run. "I'm sorry to hear that."

She took a few steps back, looking at the floor. "I have to go," she said, and before James could say another word she was hurrying down the hall toward her room.

He watched her go, smiling to himself. Trying to restrain himself was becoming more difficult with each passing minute.

In her room, Ashlynn closed the door, locking it behind her. She dropped to the floor, back to the door, knees to her chest. She was almost surprised Cierra hadn't shown up yet. There was no doubt in her mind that Cierra was still at the diner, apologizing to the wait staff and eating her breakfast without a care in the world.

She wanted to call her parents, but she knew Cierra would have an excuse for them. That she hadn't taken her pills, or that she was just anxious being in a new place. Cierra always had excuses, ever since they were kids. She had tripped Ashlynn once while they playing tag in the yard. It had been on purpose, Ashlynn knew, since she remembered Cierra's laughing face.

Cierra had blamed the neighbor boy, and Ashlynn had been too scared to say she was lying.

Ashlynn bit hard at the inside of her cheek so hard she could taste blood. But it didn't matter. Her head was swimming and her stomach was twisted in knots. She should have stayed and eaten, but anger had come over her common sense in the moment, and now her stomach was paying the price.

On shaking legs she stumbled toward the bathroom. Bile burned in the back of her throat as she vomited, sobbing as she did. She braced herself against the toilet, tears landing on the white porcelain.

Her throat stung, but she tried to ignore it as she flushed the toilet, curling up in the corner of the bathroom. Her hair fell into her eyes, making her blink rapidly.

The air seemed to shift, and she felt a hand on her shoulder. Assuming it was Cierra, she closed her eyes, a sob escaping her. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She received no answer as she was pulled to her feet slowly. She looked at the red carpet, closing her eyes again as she laid down on her bed. The blankets were pulled over her, and she turned over onto her side, smiling faintly as fatigue swept over her. "Thank you," she whispered, and she pulled the blankets up to her chin.

James March watched as she fell asleep, a look of, what appeared to be, concern on his face. He sat at the edge of the bed, watching the steady rise and fall of the blankets as they moved with Ashlynn's breathing. He longed to reach out and brush the hair from her face, but she looked so peaceful asleep that he almost feared he would wake her.

He allowed himself to touch the soft skin of her cheek once, so quickly that he barely felt it. "Goodnight, dear girl," he murmured, and, in an instant, he disappeared.


	7. Six

When Cierra returned to the hotel, she found Ashlynn asleep, curled into a ball beneath the blankets. She sighed to herself, shaking her head. She shouldn't have let Ashlynn leave by herself. She knew how bad Ashlynn got when she was on her own.

She looked at herself in the mirror, wiping away at her eyes with the back of her hand. Her mascara had begun to run on the walk home, dragged down her face by tears. Biting her lip, she stepped into the bathroom, running the water. It was icy cold as she splashed it onto her face, rubbing her eyes. It was ineffective, she knew, but she had forgotten to pack makeup wipes for the trip.

She managed to wipe away her makeup, running her fingers through her dark hair before she stepped back out into the bedroom. With a soft breath, she pulled Ashlynn's cell phone from her pocket, laying it down on the drawers.

She closed her eyes, rubbing her temples as she tried to ward off the start of a headache. She was tired, but it was only nine in the morning, and she knew going to sleep then would ruin her morning. She resolved to go to the bar, hoping to ease her stress with a drink.

Liz glanced up at her as she approached. "Where's your friend?" she asked, and Cierra shook her head.

"Asleep," she replied.

"Late night?"

"Bad morning."

Liz nodded at that. "I see. What can I get you?"

"Shot of vodka."

"Coming right up."

Cierra lowered her head, settling into a stool as Liz poured the drink, setting it down in front of her. "Thanks," she said, and she downed the shot quickly. Liz flashed a smile in response, leaning forward on her elbows. "You okay?" she asked.

"We got into a stupid fight," Cierra said. "I don't even know why. Sometimes she's just so fucking annoying."

"She might say the same about you."

Cierra snorted at that. "Yeah, I'll bet. Sometimes I just don't get why we're friends, though."

Liz shrugged, refilling the shot glass. Cierra nodded in thanks. "She called me a bad friend, and I guess I am, but it sucks to hear it, you know? She never blows up, so to have her shout at me, it's just weird."

"Sometimes the calmest people get the angriest."

Cierra chuckled despite herself, drinking the shot and shaking her head. "God, that's true. But I'm so used to her not sticking up for herself that I just kind of figured I could say whatever and it wouldn't matter."

She waved a hand, urging Liz to refill the glass, and she did. She drank the shot, sighing. "She's like a little kid, you know? Like, you have to always hold her hand and tell her everything's going to be all right. I get that she has anxiety and all that, but she can take care of herself, can't she?"

Liz didn't answer, and Cierra sighed one more time before she buried her head in her hands. "I should apologize to her. God, I'm an awful friend. She's right."

Liz smiled reassuringly, reaching out to squeeze Cierra's shoulder. "I'm sure you two will make up. How long have you been friends for?"

"Since we were little," Cierra replied. "I'm a year older than her, so I've always kind of been like her big sister. But lately it's been like I'm her mother, making sure she takes her pills, making sure she does everything she's supposed to. She has all these rules, she has to take a pill every morning, and she can't have them on an empty stomach or she gets sick. She can't tap her fingers or she gets too obsessed with it and gets loud, so if we're out she has to keep her hands on the tables."

"Strict rules keep things in check."

"But it's so annoying."

"Sometimes we have to deal. Even if we don't like it."

"Well, I hate it."

Liz hesitated a moment before she spoke again. "Do you hate her?"

"You know, I've thought about that. And I'm not really sure. I hate the hassle that comes with her, but she's sweet. She's so nice and naive, it's adorable in a way, you know? But it's so hard to deal with her and all the problems that come with her."

"It's not your responsibility."

"But it is. I'm the only person she's around besides her parents."

"She can do things for herself."

"I'm not sure she can."

Liz shrugged at that. "Maybe. But you should let her try and figure that out for herself."

"I don't want to throw her into the deep end."

"If you don't, she'll never learn to swim."

"How can she when she's afraid of the water?"

Liz didn't answer for a moment. She shook her head, stepping back from the bar. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "But you have to let her try. She needs to grow. Grow and learn and become her own person."

"I just want her to be safe," Cierra said.

"But it's not your job to make sure that happens."

Cierra nodded. "You're right," she admitted, shoving the shot glass toward Liz, who refilled it dutifully. "I just need to leave her be."

Liz nodded, watching Cierra drink the shot. "She doesn't constantly need you. You just want to feel needed," she said.

Cierra didn't answer.


	8. Seven

Ashlynn woke up to Cierra in the room, styling her hair in the mirror. "Hi," she said, and Cierra glanced back at her.

"Hey," Cierra said. "You're up. Your stomach feeling all right?"

"Better than it was."

"Did you get sick?"

"Yeah."

Cierra nodded. "You could have gotten yourself something to eat," she said gently.

"I wasn't in the mood for people."

Cierra managed a chuckle, fixing the elastic in her hair. "Are you ever?"

When Ashlynn didn't answer, she sighed faintly. "Are you feeling better now? Really?"

"Yes."

"You don't need anything for nausea?"

"No."

"All right. Good."

She turned to face Ashlynn, managing a smile. "I'm sorry," she said. "For what I said this morning. I don't know, I'm just stressed. I'm about to go to college in two weeks, you know? I have a lot on my plate."

"I get it," Ashlynn replied, and Cierra noted how quiet she was. "I'm sorry for calling you a bad friend."

"I was acting like one. You had every right to."

Cierra took a deep breath, smoothing her hands along her jeans. "So, I kind of had an idea. I'm not going to be around much longer, since I'm going to school, and I figured, I should give you a chance to try and branch out on your own a bit."

Ashlynn's eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Cierra realized she was shaking, something that had never happened before. She tried to keep a cool smile on her face as she answered. "I'm still going to be at the hotel, but I'm going to get another room. I'm going to let you keep this one, since you've kind of settled here."

"What?"

"It's only five more days, Ash. I want to let you grow a bit, you know?"

"No, I don't."

"Ash, come on, act reasonable. I just think it would be good for us. I think being together constantly is stressing us both out, don't you agree?"

Ashlynn shook her head frantically. "No," she said. "No, I don't agree."

"Five days. That's all. Just five days, and I'll be only a few rooms away. I'm going to get myself another room, this one is already paid for."

"Cierra."

"Ashlynn. It's fine."

Ashlynn's eyes were beginning to fill with tears, but Cierra tried her best to ignore it. "You're not as helpless as you think, Ash. Really. You've done well with the bartender, you've managed to talk to the woman at the front desk."

"Those were barely conversations," Ashlynn said, voice weak with the start of tears.

Cierra closed her eyes, trying to force the image of Ashlynn's crying face from her mind. "It'll be good for you. Promise."

She tried to avoid Ashlynn's gaze as she gathered her things, though she felt Ashlynn's stare on her back. She kept her head down, leaving the room. Through the door she heard Ashlynn shouting, a sound that was entirely foreign to her. "You bitch!"

James watched from the end of the hallway, smiling to himself. The two girls arguing was more than he could have ever hoped for. To have them both alone and vulnerable, it was as if someone had placed a neatly wrapped gift in his lap but warned him not to ruin the wrapping paper.

He wanted to pay Ashlynn a visit. Perhaps in her vulnerable state it would be easier to speak to her. To lure her into his trap and gain some semblance of her trust. And so, he made his way to room 63, knocking at the door lightly.

Footsteps sounded inside the room, and the door opened. "Cierra?" Ashlynn asked, but her eyes went wide when she realized it was him. "Oh. James."

He smiled at her stunned expression. "Something wrong?"

She didn't answer, rather shook her head. James raised an eyebrow. "You're lying to me again, dear girl."

"What do you want?" she asked suddenly, surprising both herself and James with the annoyance that was clear in her tone.

She stared at him, her blue eyes glittering with tears. "I want to know if you're all right," James said.

At that, she snorted softly. "What do you care?"

"Curiosity," he replied, stepping closer to her.

She stood in place, not even moving when he came so close that their chests were nearly touching. "You're upset," he said.

"What gave it away?" she replied, chuckling weakly.

She flinched slightly as he raised a hand to her. But still, she stood in place as he wiped away a tear that fell down her cheek.

She only moved away to open the door wider, allowing James to step inside the room. He looked at the unmade bed, the bottle of pills on the table, and he raised an eyebrow. "For my anxiety," she muttered, waving a hand toward the bottle. "I've already taken one today, though."

"I see," he said.

She nodded slowly. "I'm all right," she said. "I don't know why you seem to care, but I am."

"You don't seem it."

"I am."

"What's wrong?"

Finally, she shook her head, sighing. "My friend is acting stupid, and I'm upset. Is that what you want to hear?"

James smiled, reaching out and taking her hand. She flinched at the touch but did not pull away. His hand was cold as he smoothed his thumb along her knuckles. A slow breath escaped her. Closer he stepped, closer, closer, until their chests were pressed together. Her hand was shaking in his grip, but, still, she did not back away. "I'm not scared," she whispered, and, for the first time in her life, she was telling the truth.

His smile remained as he leaned close, whispering her ear, his breath tickling her skin. "You should be."

Only then did she pull away, but she was close to him again in a second, kissing him. Only slightly surprised, he kissed her back, hands moving to her waist. Her lips were soft against his, and he longed to feel her kiss longer as she pulled away, her blue eyes wide. He smiled at her, squeezing her hand one more time before he vanished.


	9. Eight

"You kissed her?"

"I did."

"But she's- - it's hardly appropriate of you- -"

"Have I ever been appropriate, Miss Evers?"

James turned to face her, his most loyal companion in life and beyond. Her face was twisted with annoyance. "Miss Evers, why are you so upset about this?"

"Because she's different from the others," she said, and he grinned, chuckling despite himself.

"That's why she's wonderful. Can't you see?"

He gripped her shoulders, still grinning. Miss Evers seemed unsure. "She's so innocent, Miss Evers. So naive. I love it."

"Are you sure that is all you're drawn to?"

His eyebrows furrowed, and his grip on her slackened. "What do you mean?"

"She's young. Beautiful."

"I can ruin her beautiful face, Miss Evers."

"Kind."

"None of that matters."

"Are you falling in love?"

"I don't know the girl. Besides, I've loved only Elizabeth."

"She looks like that witch in some ways. I know you see it."

He stiffened at that, letting go of Miss Evers. "Whatever could you mean?"

Miss Evers laughed weakly, shaking her head. She looked at the floor. "That light hair, the pale skin. She looks like those little children that run about this place."

"I won't let Elizabeth have her. I've put too much time into this, Miss Evers, I can't simply give up."

"Then kill her now and be done with it."

"Where is the fun in that? The game is half of the enjoyment."

When Miss Evers didn't answer, he took her by the arm, staring at her. "You're jealous," he said, and her brown eyes went wide.

"I'm not," she said, a bit too quickly. "I promise."

"It's unflattering."

"I know. I'm sorry."

She looked at him fearfully as he let go of her. "I'm not in love with the girl, Miss Evers," he said. "I'm in love with the glorious thought of killing her."

She nodded slowly. "I see. But what of her friend?"

"All my plans will come to light," he said. "You need only to wait and see."

She didn't understand in truth, but she nodded all the same. "Of course," she said, and his smile returned.

"Worry not, Miss Evers," he said. "You'll have a mess to clean soon enough."

She forced a small smile. "A glorious mess?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Yes, Miss Evers. Glorious, indeed."

Cierra examined her new room, biting her lip as she looked herself over in the mirror. She felt bad for abandoning Ashlynn, but it had been needed. She licked her lips before carefully applying a layer of baby pink lipstick.

She tousled her dark hair, letting it frizz slightly around her head. She needed something to take her mind off of Ashlynn, and she was sure to find a club that would be perfect. Smoothing her hands along her jeans, she nodded to herself. It was good enough for a club, and it wasn't like her clothes mattered anyway.

Grabbing a jacket, she stepped out of the room, lowering her eyes to the floor as she fumbled with the zipper. "Going out?" a voice asked, and she turned to look at a woman.

Her blonde hair was a mess around her head. She wore a skin tight purple dress with a heavy cheetah print coat over it. Her mauve lipstick was smudged around her lips, and stains of the same color covered the cigarette in her hand. "Yeah," Cierra said.

The woman chuckled, holding out her free hand. "Sally," she greeted, and Cierra reached out to shake it.

"Cierra," she said.

Sally nodded, a smile playing at her lips. "So, where are you going?" she asked.

"Club," Cierra replied. "I've gotta clear my head."

"There are other ways to do that."

"None that I can think of."

Sally chuckled, shaking her head. "You aren't thinking hard enough, then."

Cierra smiled faintly. "What do you mean?"

"All manner of things, kid," Sally replied. "And none of them beyond the doors of this place."

Cierra's dark eyes widened, but her smile remained. "You mean drugs?"

"I mean the greatest China White you've ever had."

"Heroin?"

Sally only smiled, shrugging. Cierra glanced back at hotel room, nodding faintly. "All right," she said. "Yeah. Let's do it."

Sally was grinning as Cierra moved to her side. "How old are you, kid?" Sally asked once they started to walk.

"Twenty-two," Cierra answered.

"What kind of things does a twenty-two-year-old need to get out of her head?"

"I'm a shitty friend."

"Ah, I see. I don't have friends. Not anymore."

"Sounds awful."

"I'm used to it."

Cierra nodded slowly. "Sounds pretty sad."

"I don't need shrink, kid. I just need someone to get high with."

"Oh. Okay. Sorry."


	10. Nine

Five days in to her stay at the Hotel Cortez, and Ashlynn was starting to adapt to a routine. Wake up, take pill, pace hallway, vomit, take a shower, spend time with Liz at the bar. The routine was hardly subject to any change, though James made occasional appearances, never staying long enough for her to get any information out of him, nor did either of them bring up the kiss, though she knew it lingered in both of their minds.

She had somewhat become used to the taste of wine after Liz had encouraged her to try it. It wasn't nearly as bad as the vodka she had tried when Liz offered it. Scotch had an interesting taste, and after experiencing a panic attack at the realization she had not spoken to Cierra in two days, she had drank an entire glass, her mind going foggy in a way not unsimilar to her pills. Quickly she realized that the smell scotch seemed to linger on her shirts when James held her by the arms, so close yet so far, their chests pressed together but their lips never meeting.

She saw Cierra in passing sometimes, though Cierra never even looked at her, much less speak. Ashlynn almost didn't mind it. She was beginning to understand what Cierra had meant. It was good for her to be alone, it was forcing her to talk to people, to go about her day without a crutch.

But just because she understood didn't mean she had to like it.

At night, the hotel still terrified her. The darkness seemed to surround her, clutching her, sinking its claws into her and never letting go. And a strange part of her, hidden deep down inside, enjoyed that darkness. Though it scared her to no extent, there was a certain allure to it. The allure of the jazz music that played from room 64 in the night.

She leaned against the mirror, brushing hair out of her eyes. She tapped her foot against the carpet, letting out a soft breath. She needed something to do. Something to take her mind away from the thought of spending the night in the room. A knock sounded at the door, and she quickly moved to open it.

A part of her almost expected Cierra, though the sight of James was almost a surprise as well. "Oh," she said. "Hi."

"Going somewhere?" he asked, looking her over.

"I was thinking of it."

"Wherever would you go, dear girl?"

"I don't know."

He took a step closer, closing the door behind him. "What do you want?" she asked, but he only shook his head, taking a few more steps toward her, taking her by the arm.

She closed her eyes as he leaned in to kiss her, his hands wandering to her waist. Confusion overwhelmed her, but still she kissed him back, arms wrapping around his neck. Breaking apart for a brief moment, she managed to ask, "James?"

But he only smiled, kissing her again, hungrily this time. She pulled away, her eyebrows knitting together anxiously. He gripped her tightly. "What?" he asked.

"What are you doing?" she mumbled, taking a step back.

He kept his hands on her waist, even as she moved away from him. "What does it seem like I'm doing, dear girl?"

She shook her head, her body seeming to tense entirely in his grip. He stepped closer, taking her hand in his own, thumb smoothing along her knuckles. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"I know when you're lying. Have we not established this, dear girl?" he smiled as he spoke, but there was a dangerous tone to his voice.

"Cierra hasn't talked to me."

"You're still so worried about her? She can take care of herself, dear girl. As can you."

"She's my friend."

His voice lowered as he replied. "She abandoned you."

"She didn't mean to."

"She thought about it. She planned it. She knew what she was doing, and she knew it would hurt you. She abandoned you."

Ashlynn bit her lip, and James squeezed her a bit too tightly. "Tell me," he said. "How much pain did it cause you to be abandoned by the only person you've ever cared for?"

She swallowed anxiously. "A lot," she said, her voice barely audible.

"Don't you want to make her feel what you felt?"

"What?"

"Cause her the same pain. Make her suffer the way she made you."

"I don't know what you mean."

He moved closer, whispering in her ear. "I mean kill her, dear girl."

Ashlynn flinched away from him, pulling free of his grip as if she'd been burned. "What?" she demanded, but James seemed unfazed.

"Kill her," he said. "Make her suffer. Make her bleed."

"You're insane."

"I'm the sanest person you'll ever meet."

"I can't kill her."

"Whyever not?" he asked, and he stepped ever closer. "It'd be easy. Slit her throat. Drain her dry and be done with it. She deserves nothing less, dear girl."

Ashlynn shook her head, frozen as he stepped closer, closer, taking her arms and pulling her close. His voice was low, barely a whisper. "It will feel wonderful, dear girl. I promise you that."

She didn't answer, and his hands moved down her arms, squeezing her shoulders before they continued downward, gripping her hips tightly. As he pulled her closer, he whispered in her ear, his breath making the hairs on the back of her neck rise. "Just do it."

She shivered as his lips moved to her neck. "How?" she whispered, and she felt him chuckle against her skin.

"However you like, my dear. No matter what, I will guide you the entire way."


	11. Ten

The knife felt heavy in Ashlynn's hand, and she twisted it over and over. She was shaking, nerves only eased by James' hands on her shoulder and her hip. "You're so afraid," he murmured into her ear. "There's no need for it."

Ashlynn hesitated a moment before she answered, he voice wavering. "Where do I aim?"

"The throat, dear girl. Slow enough to make her suffer, and an easy target to hit."

Ashlynn nodded, and he chuckled lightly, squeezing a bit too tightly. He turned her to face him, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he whispered, "you'll do wonderfully. I know you will."

She looked up at him, and he smiled at her, kissing her quickly on the lips. "Go on," he encouraged. "Don't even think."

"All right," she agreed, and he nodded before releasing her.

She looked down the hallway at Cierra, who was unlocking the door to her hotel room. "Cierra!" she called, and the dark eyes were on her in a moment.

"Ash?" Cierra said, and she forced a broad smile as Ashlynn began to approach. "Hey."

"Hey."

Cierra looked her over. "How are you doing?" she asked, and Ashlynn shrugged.

"I'm all right."

"Really?"

"Yes."

Cierra nodded a little. "Good," she said. "That's really good. Have you taken your pills?"

"Yeah," Ashlynn said.

"Really?"

"I'm taking my fucking pills, Cierra."

Her eyes went wide at that, and she laughed despite herself. "Sorry," she said. "Guess I'm just used to being in control mode. Have you had any attacks?"

"No."

"That's really good, Ash. Really."

Ashlynn nodded, managing a smile. "Yeah, it is," she agreed.

Cierra looked at the door, then back at Ashlynn. "You want to come in?" she asked. "It's been a minute since we talked."

"Three days," Ashlynn said, and Cierra bit her lip.

"Yeah, I guess you're right, aren't you? Well, come in," she said, and she opened the door.

They both stepped inside, Cierra closing the door behind them. She waved a hand to show the room off. "Welcome," she said. "Not quite as nice as yours, but it's something, right?"

"Yeah," Ashlynn agreed, nodding faintly.

"You really haven't had any attacks?" she asked, and Ashlynn fought the urge to roll her eyes as she nodded. "That's insane. I don't want to sound condescending or something, but, like, that's crazy."

"I've been getting by. Night is hard, though. Scary."

"Scary?" Cierra laughed, shaking her head. "What, are you five?"

She tensed a bit, laughing again before she looked at the floor. "Sorry. Sorry, that sounded rude. I didn't mean that."

"It's fine," Ashlynn replied, though it truly wasn't.

"I get what you mean. This place gives me the creeps. But, only two days left. We'll get through it."

"Yeah."

Cierra hesitated before she spoke. "Are you really sure you're okay? You're acting quiet. Weird."

"I'm okay!"

Before Ashlynn could stop herself, she was swinging her arm. The blade of the knife slashed across Cierra's throat, and half of a scream broke forth before Cierra hit the floor, blood seeping into the crimson carpet. Ashlynn was shaking, her eyes wide, frozen.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to see James. He smiled at her stunned expression. "I did it," she whispered, and he nodded.

"You did."

Tears began to swim in her eyes, but there was a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. A feeling of sadistic joy that made her body surge with adrenaline.

James was grinning. "What you're feeling now, dear girl, is the greatest feeling you will ever experience," he stated. "Savor in it. It won't last forever."

She looked down at Cierra, whose skin was beginning to lose its rosy color. James took her by the chin, lifting her head so she met his gaze fully. "Look at me," he said. "Not her. Me."

She nodded obediently as his thumb brushed along her jaw. She was the first to lean forward, kissing him gently, arms wrapping around his neck. Momentarily stunned, James stiffened slightly before he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist. She bit lightly at his lower lip, and when they broke apart, he was chuckling. "Aren't you just delightful?" he asked, but he received no response.

Rather, she buried her face in his shoulder, this time making him stop entirely. He hesitated before he a brought a hand up to pat her back. "Thank you," she whispered, and his eyebrows furrowed.

"Whatever for?"

"For helping me."

He answered after a long moment, surprising even himself with the sincerity in his tone. "You're welcome, dear girl."


	12. Eleven

James lay with Ashlynn entangled in his arms, her head on his chest, blonde hair splayed across the bare skin. She was asleep, her chest rising and falling slowly but steadily. He rubbed circles on the skin of her back with his hand, only stopping to brush hair away from her face. Her skin felt warm against his, and very soft.

"I have to say, I never thought I'd see the day."

The voice was quiet, but James knew it well. His eyes moved to Elizabeth, who stood in the doorway, a faint smile on her face. She looked at him, then Ashlynn. "How old is the girl?"

"Twenty-one," he replied.

"She's little more than a child, James."

He didn't answer for a moment as Ashlynn's blue eyes fluttered open. "Shh," he whispered to her. "Go back to sleep, dear girl."

She smiled faintly at him before closing her eyes, nestling closer and wrapping her arm around his chest. He took her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. As sleep began to overwhelm her again, James looked back at Elizabeth. "She's sleeping," he noted, which earned a chuckle.

"You're falling in love, James. I can see it."

"I'm not," he replied. "But she needs protection."

"Protection? I found that poor girl in her room. She left blood all over the carpet. Was that your doing or your little girl?"

"She isn't mine."

"Really?"

Elizabeth shook her head, taking a few steps closer. James' grip tightened protectively on Ashlynn, who mumbled something in her sleep. "She smells like a banana candy," Elizabeth noted, smiling to herself.

"Do you want something, Elizabeth?" James asked, and she shrugged.

"I just want to see the girl who has you making mistakes. Leaving that body where anyone could see? That was stupid, James."

He flinched at that, and Elizabeth chuckled despite herself. "Fearful, are we? That's surprising. But, that's how you seem to be acting lately. What's so special about this girl, James?"

"She's innocent," James murmured, smoothing a hand along Ashlynn's back. "Uncorrupted."

"Or at least she was until your filthy hands touched her."

He did not answer, and Elizabeth sighed. "Do you care for her, James?"

A look of what could have almost been fear appeared on his face, and before he could speak again, Elizabeth shook her head. "Don't lie to me, James."

"Perhaps," he said. "She needs to be protected, Elizabeth. I can protect her."

"She's her own person."

"She's young and weak."

"But her own person nonetheless."

When James didn't answer, Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "I'll leave you," she said. "Enjoy your night, James."

He watched her leave, and as she shut the door behind her, Ashlynn slowly raised her head. "Was someone here?" she asked softly, and James shook his head.

"No, dear girl. You must be dreaming," he said.

"Oh," she whispered, smiling faintly as he ran his fingers through her soft hair.

"Go back to sleep, dear girl."

"All right."

She looked up at him, moving to kiss him softly. Her next words came as a surprise to both of them, though James tried his best to hide it as she giggled softly. "I think I'm falling in love with you."

He didn't answer. Rather, he wrapped his arms tighter around her waist and buried his face in her blonde hair.

When morning came, Ashlynn awoke to an empty bed. She bit her lip, pulling the blankets off her bare body as she stood and picked up her clothes from the floor. The room was far warmer than when she had entered the night before, and no longer were the hairs on her arms risen to attention.

She tossed the clothes onto her bed, digging through her suitcase for an outfit. She settled on a white tank top and a pair of light wash jeans, along with her favorite yellow cardigan. She dressed in silence, brushing her hair out in the mirror.

At the door to Elizabeth's penthouse suite, James was trying to think of how to make his request. He wrung his hands together, looking at the floor. Everything willed him to knock, but his fear of what Elizabeth would say held him back.

Sucking in an unneeded breath, he raised his hand, rapping his knuckles against the door.

It opened quickly to reveal Elizabeth, who looked him over with a sigh. "James," she said. "What do you want?"

"I've come to ask a favor," he said, and she raised an eyebrow.

"I don't give favors, James."

"Please."

She rolled her eyes, opening the door further. "Come in," she said. "Tell me what you want."

He stepped into the room, and she closed the door behind him with a nod. "Speak," she said, and James watched her sit in a chair, crossing one leg over the other.

"Ashlynn," he said, and a laugh escaped Elizabeth.

"What of her?" she asked.

"She cares for me."

"Really? Who could have guessed that?"

"But I care for her, as well."

At that, Elizabeth seemed to tense. "Truly?"

"I do believe so, yes."

She chuckled faintly, leaning forward to meet his gaze fully. "You've fallen in love with her?"

When he didn't answer, Elizabeth's smile grew. "Oh, this is just wonderful. You've experienced the main human emotion well after your time alive. How do you feel, James?"

"Strange."

She nodded. "I see. So, you've come to tell me you're done with our monthly dinners?"

"No," James said. "I've come to ask if you would turn her."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Turn her. Turn Ashlynn into what you are. And then she can stay here forever with me."

"Kill her if you want her to stay with you."

"She'll never be able to leave this place. I want her to have some semblance of freedom."

Elizabeth didn't answer for a moment. "Do you truly love her?"

"I believe I do," James said.

She looked at the floor, shaking her head before she replied. "I'll do it."


	13. Act Two

**Act Two: Undead**

_While I thought I was learning how to live, I have been learning how to die._

_\- Leonardo da Vinci_


	14. One ii

The bustling club was hazy with smoke, and the smell of liquor wafted through the air. Ashlynn scanned the writhing crowd, trying to get past the strong smell of copper that was surrounding her. Clubs were awful to try and find good meals at. The blood was tainted with drugs and alcohol, something Ashlynn had learned the hard way would make her mind turn to fog.

She kept her head low as she navigated the scene, smiling as she passed people. A few men spared her looks, and she tried her best to focus on their smells as she tried to find a good meal. She shouldn't have been at the club in the first place. She had promised James she would stay at the hotel for the night. On top of that, she had promised the Countess no more hunting at clubs after a particularly nasty few days of dizziness after she had feasted on one man who's blood had been severely tainted.

But listening to the Countess was one thing she never had gotten used to, even after nearly three years at the Hotel Cortez. This had caused numerous arguments, with the Countess finally, to an extent, giving up on controlling Ashlynn's wild temper.

As she walked, there seemed to be a shift in her senses. The smell of copper weakened, and her blue eyes landed on a young man. He stood alone, leaned casually against the wall. A beer was in his hand, though unopened. He looked bored, though a smile formed on his face as Ashlynn approached. "Enjoying your night?" she asked, looking him over.

"Now that you're here, yes."

"Flatterer."

He shrugged. "Maybe I'm just a nice guy."

She chuckled at that, glancing around at the crowd of people. "So, what's your name?" she asked.

"Michael," he replied, holding out a hand.

She shook it with a faint smile. "Ashlynn."

"Ashlynn? That's a pretty name."

She chuckled again, biting slightly at her lip. "Want to hook up?"

"Forward," he noted, his eyes widening a bit.

"I know what I want."

"I like that."

"I figured."

He looked around before nodding. "Yeah," he said.

Ashlynn smiled, taking his arm tightly. "Great," she said.

She found herself crammed into a bathroom stall, trying to avoid hitting the toilet as he kissed her hungrily. Trying not to gag, she fumbled to retrieve the small switchblade in her jean pocket. In a split second she had the blade sticking into his neck. His eyes clouded over and he fell back as she twisted to press him against the wall, pulling the blade free as she let the drops of sweet crimson fall into her mouth.

She could have drained him dry right then, but the sound of the door opening stopped her. She slowly stepped out of the stall, closing it behind her. Licking the blood from her lips, she kept her head down, brushing past a young man, who stared after as she left the bathroom.

It was a short walk from the club back to the hotel, and Iris glanced up as Ashlynn approached the counter. "You're back," she said. "Still hungry?"

"A bit, but it's fine. Not worth risking Mother Dearest finding out I broke into her stores."

At that, Iris almost chuckled. "Well," she said. "I suppose you'd understand it more than me."

"I know my limits," Ashlynn said, and she leaned her elbows on the counter, smiling. "How are you doing, Iris?"

Iris raised an eyebrow. "No one here asks how I'm doing unless they want something."

"Do I have to want something every time I speak with you?"

"Not every time."

Ashlynn chuckled faintly. "Three years I've known you," she said. "I'm surprised we don't know more about each other."

"You know enough."

"All I know is that Donovan is your son, and he would have this hotel thinking that wasn't true."

Iris tensed at that, and Ashlynn sighed softly. "Sorry. Point taken. Any guests up in my room?"

Iris shook her head, and Ashlynn offered a smile before she straightened fully, making way toward the elevator. She smoothed her hands along her jeans, leaning against the back wall with an air of casualness that she never would have had before she was turned.

In the three years she had spent at the hotel as one of the Countess' many progeny, Ashlynn had developed a confidence she never would have thought she would experience. And a strange part of her loved that feeling.

She played with the switchblade, turning it over in her hands, popping out the blade a few times just to see the way the metal glinted in the elevators' light. She smiled only to herself, only putting the blade away when the doors slid open, their metal gears squeaking softly.

Bathed in the faint light of the hallway, her light hair looked almost orange. She lowered her head as she made way toward her room, trying to avoid the eyes she felt on her back.

Only as she opened the door to her room did she look back, locking eyes with Cierra, who stood at the end of the hall. With a weak smile, Ashlynn stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.


	15. Two ii

Ashlynn sat on the edge of Iris' desk, her legs dangling over the floor. The backs of her sneakers thudded against the wood as she swung her legs back and forth. She smiled as a man approached, fighting the urge to wrinkle her nose at the smell of copper that overwhelmed his blood. He spared her a quick glanced before he rang the bell, once, twice.

Iris stepped out of the back room, barely acknowledging the young man. "I need a room," he said, "one night."

"$150," Iris replied, and he waved a hand toward the small price tag on the desk.

"Says here $30."

"That's out of date. Prices went up after the remodel."

Ashlynn tried her best not to chuckle at his annoyed reaction. He took off his sunglasses, looking around the lobby. "Okay, well, that's bullshit," he said.

Nonetheless, he produced a crumpled stack of bills from his pocket, setting them down on the desk. He bounced on the balls of his feet, not keeping eye contact with Iris. "You know what?" she said after a moment. "It's your lucky day. Mama's feeling magnanimous."

She took the money, turning to the wall and taking down a key. Ashlynn's eyes went wide as she saw the number, though she said nothing. "Room 64," Iris said, handing the key to him.

He nodded, making way toward the elevator. "Oh, elevator's out of service today," Iris called after him.

He sighed, putting his glasses back on before dashing up the stairs. Just below the staircase, Sally stared up at the man. "I've got dibs on this one, Ashlynn. I haven't seen one that sweet in a while."

"Have him," Ashlynn replied. "He smells awful anyway."

Sally flashed her the faintest smirk. "That's why he's sweet."

From the counter, Ashlynn looked to Iris. "64?" she asked with a hint of a smile. "Are you trying to torture me?"

"You can find somewhere else to be," Iris replied.

"Where? I won't spend the night at the bar."

"Why not? You've done it before."

Ashlynn opened her mouth to speak, though nothing came out. She bit her lip hard, lowering her head. Iris held back a chuckle. Ashlynn hopped off of the desk, her shoes hitting the carpet. She sent Iris one more look before she left the lobby.

She was getting hungry again. It seemed that the guy at the club hadn't been a filling enough meal, though she would never admit that to Iris or the Countess, as neither of them were content in her hunting abilities. It made her feel like a child, though in some ways, that was what she was. An immortal child, forever twenty-one.

She ventured the hallway, giving a small nod to a passing Miss Evers, who simply ignored her. The ghostly maid had a habit of ignoring Ashlynn, which she didn't mind. She would have rather avoided the passive aggressive comments made by the red-headed woman. Miss Evers was jealous, or, at least, that was what James always said. Ashlynn couldn't tell if it was jealousy or if Miss Evers simply hated her.

She watched Miss Evers go, rolling her eyes.

Reaching the door to the penthouse suite, Ashlynn braced herself before knocking. It was a moment before the door opened, and the Countess stared down at Ashlynn. She smiled. "Ashlynn. Well, this is a surprise."

"Spare me the mock kindness," Ashlynn said.

"It's not mock kindness. You are one of my children. I care."

"I'm hungry."

"Go hunting."

"I already did."

"And you didn't get your fill?"

Ashlynn bit her lip, looking at the floor as she answered. "I was crammed into a bathroom stall, so no."

The Countess raised an eyebrow dangerously. "Hunting in clubs again, Ashlynn? I've told you the consequences of that."

"He wasn't high or anything. He might have been the only sober person in the place. But I got interrupted."

"So, what, you want me to help you?" the Countess asked.

Ashlynn looked up at her through her eyelashes, putting on her best pout. "Please, Mommy?" she said, and the Countess nearly laughed.

"You're getting better at that. Fine, come in."

Ashlynn stepped inside, looking around before her eyes landed on Donovan, Iris' son, in the bed, completely naked save the blanket draped over his lower half. Her eyes went wide, and she looked at the floor. The Countess seemed amused. "Donovan," she called, and he answered sleepily.

"Yes?"

"Ashlynn's here."

She heard Donovan chuckle as he said into the pillow, "hello, Ashlynn."

"Hi, Donovan," she answered.

The Countess smiled slightly. "Iris has a girl in the puppet room. The children have been feeding on her, but I'm sure they'll be more than willing to share with their older sister."

Ashlynn smiled at that. "Thank you, Mommy."

She gave the Countess a quick peck on the cheek, turning to Donovan. "Bye, Donovan!" she said.

"Goodbye, Ashlynn," he replied, and she chuckled despite herself before she left.


End file.
